Where am I taking this blog? The last week of posting was written in one fell swoop... and it felt good to write it. I was happy to start working on my thoughts about colors. It's a bit like writing a book, and I'm starting the subheadings. Yay for that, right? Except now I feel like I have to put out a bunch of stuff on color, and not skip 'round to fabric or philosophy or... what have you. Also, I was hoping for a somewhat interactive blog.... which it doesn't seem to be. I haven't written anything since "White" because it just felt so forced, and it didn't flow, and half of what I know about white didn't get put down, and ... I wasn't pleased. But how am I going to write about Grey, the next of the neutral colors, or start down the road to Blue or Green, if I don't have the passion?
I have been the unlikely "Fashion Dictator" to many of my friends. Much like Dr. Ruth giving advice on intimate matters, I seem like an unlikely person to give fashion advice. I am short, stout, and far too frugal with my own clothing. In my defense, it's virtually impossible to dress myself well unless I'm making my own clothing, and I'm on the beginning of that journey - I'm still figuring out how to fit my figure, for heaven's sake. (My poor efforts are much better than storebought, regardless). I could use a few handmaidens if anyone is passing them out - not to mention a dedicated sewing space and a lot more time!
Yet I've been studying fashion - or, should I say figure and coloring flattery - since I was a teenager. I not only know what colors and styles look well on a person, I can tell you why. Those friends who have gone shopping with me have returned surprised... they didn't know how beautiful they really were. And most of them are permanent converts to the colors I've introduced them to.
We dress ourselves down so often, we fear the gorgeousness... that we forget how wonderfully made we are. Our comfy clothes aren't the sexiest things on the block, but they're comfy. The cheap tshirt stains quickly, but we just bought it so why replace it? I am the **last** person to talk! Of course if ideas were realised instantaneously, I'd have a wardrobe to die for... but since I have to sew most of it, it's a pain. I can barely keep up with the major needs in my wardrobe, and I end up looking a bit down at the heels. -sigh-
Adding devotion to the mix only serves to increase the dichotomy in our minds. On the one hand, we have the Proverbs 31 woman and all the women in the Bible who were lovely in body as well as soul. On the other, we have the instruction to not go emphasize our outward grooming to the exclusion of our inward heart. And some of us (-points to self-) just feel guilty spending money on clothing that could be put towards other, more worthy, ends. Please the husband by looking nice, please the self-identity by being plain.
I add hair-covering to the mix, and I do it poorly. I'd dearly love to cover my hair the way the Jewish ladies do it - they have so much flair and do it so well. But at the same time, my hair is pretty and it's hot most of the year, so I don't want to go that far. Plus I have this random horror of ever imitating anyone, for any reason. I don't want to look like what I am not. And have you ever covered ALL of your hair in a public venue, in these days after 9/11? Ugh. Then, my smaller coverings slide out constantly. I'm forever putting them back in, my kids are trained to pick them up for me... and the ones that stick are barely covering *anything*. Yet, I'm committed to covering.
Anyone ever read the Dr. Doolittle books when they were children? Do you remember the PushMe-PullYou animal? I feel like that, a lot.
But maybe this was helpful. I've been in a quiet zone for the last week and ... well, maybe that's over. No promises, but I do hope to get back to posting regularly, and soon!
On a more personal note, school is out for my kids this week, and after all is said and done, the week after *that* is going to start some sewing time in the afternoons, which should hopefully break my backlog of sewing projects and my silence as well.